


Now is Not the Time for Fear

by DarlingNikki



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Prison, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Prison, Rape Recovery, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingNikki/pseuds/DarlingNikki
Summary: Alex wakes up as he's being lowered into the Pit.He doesn't learn until later that the Pit is a place of forgetting, where the worst of the worst are left to rot and take their frustrations out on each other.Alex is a lucky boy though because a familiar face, who Alex had thought long dead, spots him and takes him under his wing.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich & Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 23
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I used to love the Dark Knight Rises and fit set in the Pit from that fandom, and holy shit I was thinking and I was like holy crap AR is is RIPE for some angsty prison!fic, so I decided to steal the Pit from it and use it as a setting for this story. I kinda just meant for this to be a short, but today it bloated from a 500 word snippet I'd written late the other night, to over 5000 words written thus far, with at least that many more left to tie it off, so here's a first part! 
> 
> Title is a quote by Bane from the movie in the beginning scene where he kidnaps that journalist.
> 
> No smut or trigger warnings mentioned in this appear really in the first part other than implications and like one character's filthy mouth, but I figured I'd warn early about how this story is going, since yes, there will in fact eventually be smut and other things in it.

Alex’s day hadn’t started out bad. He’d been riding his bike on his way to the shops to pick up some stuff for Jack, when the black van had careened into his path, blocking Alex off as another pulled up behind him. They’d come well prepared to take him. Alex didn’t go without a fight though. He knows he downed several temporarily and maybe one permanently with a nasty strike to their knee. But dogpile enough bodies on, and almost anyone will go down eventually.

All it takes is one lucky blow.

Alex didn’t even see it coming focused on the people in front of him reaching to attack. All it took to take him down was a moment of lost focus. Alex never even saw the person standing back behind him ready with a gun. Alex just feels the pain of a needle sliding into the side of his neck before the world first goes sideways, then quickly goes dark.

*

Alex doesn’t know how long he spends unconscious before he begins to wake. His limbs feel heavy and his mouth feels dry. He wakes as he’s being lowered down. He sees the hungry eyes upon him, brutes seeing only fresh meat, nubile young and attractive fresh meat at that. Alex sees no women below. He doubts there is any in this prison.   
If any were sent down, they probably didn’t survive for long. Alex has survived everything else that’s been thrown at him though, he will not succumb to this. Alex flips gracefully off of the rough pallet when he’s lowered down landing with a graceful flourish that his gymnastics teacher would’ve been proud of, staring down the semicircle of men waiting for Alex, and what looks to be survival supplies being sent down along with him.   
Alex is far younger than any others down in the pit that he can see. Everyone he sees is also a fully grown man, the ones that stare the most hungrily are all much bigger than Alex. Not that it really matters to Alex, he’s taken out more skilled people with this. Alex is an expert in his field now, been on so many damn missions he’s stopped counting. It’s not like the count matters and it all begins to blur into each other after a while anyway.    
Someone wants to hurt Alex again, wow what a surprise, wait until they get a load of his smart mouth, then they’ll really want to kill him. Alex smiles to himself as they get tired of watching him stand there, and two of them advance. They walk confidently towards Alex and when they reach for him, it’s with big lunges, slow to Alex, leaving him open to make a quick jab towards one’s kidney’s while he kicks out with his foot at the other. His foot catches the one in the throat sending him falling back wheezing and clutching at his throat, and as Alex’s foot completes it’s arc toward the floor he also scores a brutal hit on the other’s arm audibly breaking bones in the man’s forearm, maybe even his Ulna and Radius bones at once. “Anyone else wanna dance?” Alex breaks the silence.

The other four men who are waiting in the front of the semicircle snarl at Alex’s nonchalance. They move as one, trying to box Alex in. These are all big men though, and Alex is small and that is a strength for Alex. He’s a lot faster than any of these guys could ever hope to be. Hell, he’s pretty sure he’s had more training in how to fight and where not to hit, which filled in the blanks nicely when Alex’s life started being on the line frequently and Alex had needed to make hits that would take hostile people out of the equation so he would survive.

Alex is very familiar with this now, the dance of violence that people inflict on each other. Another strike quick as a snake to the temple of yet another thug sends the man falling out of the fight. The three remaining men are still sneering, but now are trying to keep a safer distance from Alex, now shown to be a more formidable opponent than they’d initially thought. They’re watching Alex though, looking to see if they see an opening in Alex. If they see it they will take it.

It doesn’t come. Alex is in his element. While Alex may find himself floundering while trying to be normal, he’s very good at keeping his head in danger. Alex may not be exactly pleased that this is how his life has ended up, but he’s also gonna make sure that he survives it no matter what. Alex launches into a flurry of movement again, striking at weak points; knees, necks, eyes. Those poor bastards hoping to take him down didn’t stand a single chance.

Alex finds himself standing still, breathing deeply, calmly while surrounded by his groaning fallen foes.

Somewhere outside of the circle that Alex can see, someone starts clapping, and the people all grow quiet. Alex watches as the hardened men of the prison part way almost respectively for a familiar figure, who Alex had thought long dead. “Yassen?” Alex whispers in disbelief.

The ghost chides Alex, “Sasha,” he shakes his head, “I thought I told you to get out of adult games.”

“I tried to follow your advice, and SCORPIA tried to kill me.”

Yassen looks tired when he looks at Alex. “There is no escape now.” He reaches out and grabs Alex’s arm. “Come with me.”

Alex follows him past the other men, who are watching intently, like this is the best show they’ve ever seen on the television.

Alex is determined to get out of this, he’s survived so much worse before right?   
*

Yassen leads them to a small cell. There is no door, but a curtain is drawn across the rough opening in the rock wall. Alex notices a pallet pushed up against the far wall, with a meager stack of belongings pushed neatly within easy reach of the pallet. A small fire pit is set against one wall and Alex can see soot stains from previous fires left on the wall.

“Nice digs,” Alex says, unable to stop himself from making a smart remark.

Yassen shoves Alex onto the pallet, “Do you even know where you are, boy?”

Alex looks around helplessly and shakes his head. “No.”

Yassen smiles a broken smile at Alex, “Welcome to the Pit.” Yassen looks tired as he moves to sit next to Alex on the pallet. “Jaku niku kyo shoku.” Yassen explains, “A Japanese proverb meaning the weak are meat, and the strong eat. Survival of the fittest, Sasha, that is the whole point of this prison.”   
“Only criminals would think that a good idea.” Alex looks around in horror. “How do I get out of here?”

“Yes,” Yassen nods in agreement, “the inmates run the asylum here, and Sashenka, no one gets out of here. This is a place where problems are forgotten.” 

Alex looks at Yassen critically, “You’re the world’s best assassin and you can’t find a way out?”

“There’s a way out, it’s the same way you came in. Could you climb those vertical walls with no equipment to help?” Yassen shakes his head, “No, you probably cannot. I know that I cannot, I have tried before. Next time someone tries, I will show you what happens.” Yassen looks as if he’s measuring his next words before continuing. “You are a very unlucky boy, Alex. They probably thought the welcoming committee would take you out.” Yassen’s hand comes up to trace Alex’s cheek, “A pretty face like that? You’d be raped to death or broken and made into some man’s prison wife.”

“What?” Alex had thought those men that had attacked him seemed rapacious, but it hadn’t even occurred to Alex to be scared of that being a possibility. He’s very glad that he knows how to defend himself suddenly.

“Oh yes,” Yassen explains, “There are no women here. The weak men trade sex for protection, for food, for shelter. Everyone gets lonely eventually.”

“Even you?” Alex questions.

“Even me, Sasha.”

Alex sits next to Yassen silently and contemplates the situation he’s found himself in. Trapped, surrounded by mostly hostile people who won’t hesitate to hurt him, with a ghost he’d thought dead. A ghost that Alex had felt guilty for letting him die, even if it was dying to save Alex’s own life. If Yassen had been willing to die for him, then he wouldn't let anything happen to Alex here. Not if he can stop it.

Alex ends up drifting off to sleep sitting next to Yassen silently on the pallet.

*

When Alex wakes this time, he finds that he’s been moved to lie down on the pallet, with Yassen lying next to him. Alex is between the wall and Yassen, and Yassen’s back is a warm length pressed against Alex. Alex hears little movement coming from outside of the cell; it must be the middle of the night right now. Alex allows his eyes to drift back closed and sleep to slip him away from reality for a little bit longer.

*

Alex wakes again. This time he’s alone in the pallet, Yassen’s comforting warmth is missing. Alex rolls over reaching for him and finds nothing as he’d suspected. Alex sits up and looks around to see Yassen facing the fire pit, twisting a stick with what smells like some kind of meat on it roasting over the fire. “Breakfast is almost done, Sasha.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Sasha is short for Alexander.” Yassen hums, “A nickname.”

“Why did you die for me?”

“I am not dead.”

“You know what I mean,” Alex gets off the pallet and moves to crouch next to Yassen. “It can’t just be because you knew my dad.”

Yassen sighs, “No, little one, it is not just because of your father, as great as a man Hunter had been.”

“Then why?”

“Because of you.” Yassen looks at Alex, “You are smart, and good at what you do. You want to help people. I do not want to see your life snuffed out so soon. I think that you are a boy now, but will be an even better man, if you survive that long.”

“Doesn’t look likely, does it?” Alex laughs bitterly. “I mean, I may survive, but according to you, I am trapped here. That’s not a life.”

Yassen nods, “It is not, but we will make do.”

*

After they finish their breakfast, Yassen leads Alex out of his cell. Yassen walks past many other cells, some with curtains, some without. They enter the common area where Alex was dropped into the prison. Alex looks up at the walls, while there are bricks sticking out that Alex seems to think could be used as handholds there’s no rhyme or reason to their placement, just the natural decay of stone and plaster left exposed to the elements. Alex is sure that some of them would crumble to unhelpful pieces sending the unwary who attempt the climb to a painful comedown. 

“I see what you mean.” Alex nods at the entrance to the pit, “You’re right it’d be hard and dangerous. When has that stopped me though?”

Yassen looks unimpressed with Alex’s bravado. “You’ll see soon enough. Follow me.”

Alex shakes off Yassen’s dismissal, “Fine, what’s so important.”

“Introductions.”

“Tea and crumpets with the biggest fish?”

“I am the biggest fish, Sashenka.” Yassen grins, but it’s more of a threat than a show of humor, “I am showing you off. I have claimed you by taking you to my cell.” Alex shudders and Yassen wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close. “Better me than any of these other brutes.”

Alex can’t help to agree. Yassen and him are probably some of the few people here who are in possession of all their teeth in this entire godforsaken place. Yassen won’t hurt Alex. Alex knows this.

Alex finds himself guided by Yassen’s surprisingly gentle hands to a corner, where an elderly man sits alone playing a game of solitaire with a worn pack of cards. “Doctor,” Yassen pulls Alex closer, “this is Sasha. He’s important to me. Can you keep an eye on him for a while? Keep him out of trouble.”

Alex resents that statement, he doesn’t go looking for trouble. It just always seems to find him. “What are you doing, Yassen?”

“I have business to take care of privately.” Yassen’s face is back to what Alex has always thought of as Yassen’s neutral face, even if it promised a bit too much violence to be a truly neutral look on anyone but Yassen Gregorvitch’s face. “You will be safe, no one attacks the only medical professional we have, and the Doctor knows the consequences of his actions.” Yassen looks at the Doctor’s hands, drawing Alex’s eyes to look too. Alex takes in a sharp breath, seeing how twisted and snarled and mostly unusable the doctor’s hands seem to be. They must still cause the man great pain to use, but they are long healed and past any sort of help by now.

Alex flexes his fingers, thinking of the times his fingers had been broken, and being grateful that his injuries had been quickly set and allowed to properly heal, not left to heal as they were broken like twisted bonsai. “Hello, I’m Alex.”

Alex sits across from the doctor, who beyond his disfigurement looks to be one of the oldest men that Alex has ever seen in his life. He’s old and hunched over against the wall sitting on a threadbare pillow. He’s got a rough clay cup of clear liquid he seems to be nursing. “You are a child. Why were you sent here?” Alex can smell the metallic tang of strong alcohol on the man’s breath.

“Does it really matter?” Alex doesn’t really want to talk about it, it’s a long story anyways, and who knows who’s connected with someone who Alex has already pissed off while out on one of his missions for MI6. “I’m already here, and Yassen says there’s no changing that.”

The old man nods, “True.” He takes a long sip of his drink. “But it is not like Cossack to take a stray. That makes you interesting.”

Alex shrugs, “My dad taught him, saved his life once. That’s all.”

“That’s all.” The doctor, “That’s not all. Maybe all you know, but not all of that man’s reasons.”

Alex shrugs, “Does it matter? I’m here.” Alex waves his hands at the sights of the prison. “It’s not like that’s gonna change.”

“That means it matters more, you stupid boy.”

Alex thinks about it for a second and realizes the doctor is right. Alex is a visible weakness that people will notice. Alex clams up and sits silently waiting for Yassen to come back.

It doesn’t take too long, maybe an hour or so for Yassen to finally reappear. 

He beckons Alex and Alex follows along, still unsure of how he should be acting here, towards Yassen.

Yassen takes them to another open area. He steps away and falls into a fighting stance facing Alex. “Fight me.”

Alex is fully rested and bursting to let out some energy after this morning’s boring start. Alex doesn’t expect a fight with Yassen to be easy, but honestly Alex had thought he’d last longer before he was face down on the cold stone of the ground with Yassen pinning him. Yassen gets off of Alex’s back and helps him to his feet, “Again.”

Alex lasts longer before losing this time, so it’s not a blow to his pride. It’s still not as long as Alex would like, but he knows that Yassen is the best at what they do. It’s not a shame to lose. In fact as they keep going, Alex feels that he keeps improving. Yassen isn’t a bad teacher at all. Maybe a little unrelenting, but he’s not hurting Alex. Each takedown is accomplished quickly, painlessly as punches are pulled and Alex’s falls are directed so his weight is distributed equally so not as hard on Alex’s body even though he’s hit the floor again and again this afternoon.

Yassen leaves Alex on the ground finally, breathing heavily, “You are improving.” Alex is a little jealous of how normal he sounds right now. If Alex had tried to speak, he would’ve sounded out of breath from their sparring, but Yassen seemed like he’d just taken a calm stroll through a park. “You will be better than me, when you finally finish growing, Sashenka.” Yassen seems satisfied with that assessment.

*

Weeks pass in the same dreary routine of Alex being dropped off with a babysitter in the morning while Yassen disappears for a while, then Yassen takes Alex for physical training in the afternoon before they return to their cell for the evening, before a prisoner attempts a climb.

It’s nighttime, when Yassen and Alex usually retreat to their cell. Yassen usually uses this time to work on Alex’s grasp of different languages, working on teaching Alex Morroccan which seems to be the most common language spoken by the prisoners here. Alex can hear a loud chant, deep and resonant. “What’s that?” Alex questions.

“Someone is attempting to leave.” Yassen moves and motions for Alex to follow him, “You should watch this.”

Alex follows Yassen back to the main area of the prison. A man is standing surrounded by chanting fellow inmates as they stomp their feet on the ground setting a steady beat. The man jumps as hard as he can and catches the edge of the pit. He strains and pulls himself up. He’s carefully testing hand and footholds before he moves. Alex actually thinks it looks like the man is doing quite well in his attempt. Alex could see him getting out, he’s almost halfway there now, moving with more confidence now that he is making progress.

It’s false confidence though. Soon after the man’s next foothold gives out underneath him, sending him falling, down, down, down. He hits the wall as he goes down, then when he finally hits the stone floor it is with a wet thump. He does not move to get up. Alex can’t tell from the distance if he’s breathing or not.

No one moves to help him as the loose circle of men disperses back to sit around their little fires. Yassen wraps his arms around Alex and whispers in his ear. “What did he do wrong?”

“He got too confident, stopped checking as carefully that he was moving to solid holds.” Alex thinks for a second before continuing, “I bet the ones closer to the top are in worse shape too, thanks to being closer to the elements.”

“Very good.”

Those words send small shivers of pleasure down Alex’s spine. Yassen’s approval is rare, and not easily earned in Alex’s experience at least.

*

One morning before Alex and Yassen start their routine, a man comes to their cell.

“Cossack, you son of a whore, since you got your little piece of ass you never come drink with us anymore.” The man seems petulant, “Come play cards, bring the pretty boy and play with him on your lap, you know no one cares.”

“I’m not fond of being your entertainment, you dog.” Yassen sighs, “But I will come.”

“Good, good. You can go back to fucking your pretty toy tomorrow night.”

Alex shivers at the thought of what these scum think Yassen is doing to him. Yassen holds Alex sometimes at night, but he’s never made a single move to touch Alex beyond holding him. Yassen thinks of Alex as a child after all.

*

The area Yassen leads Alex to for the game is loud. Several men, including the Doctor, who Alex still has no other name for, are sitting on the ground around a low table. Smoke clouds hover above them, and Alex can see a small earthenware bottle being passed around between the men.

“Ah, Cossack and his boy toy!” The man that had come to their room welcomes them smiling widely, “I am glad you decided to play again, it has been very boring without your dry wit.”

“You say that now, but when I win you will be back to cursing my name Ivan, and you know it.”

The man, Ivan laughs, “You are right, but at least this time I have your pretty eye candy to console me.” He leers at Alex.

“Sasha is a little pit viper, don’t get to close Ivan,” Yassen smiles coldly, “You wouldn’t be the first to lose your life to him.”

The man laughs good naturedly, “You are probably right, Cossack. I saw what he did to Nazir’s men when he first arrived. That pretty little boy had no problem taking down men I would have hesitated to fight.”

“Yes, he’s very talented.”

Alex isn’t allowed to play. Instead he sits quietly beside Yassen as Yassen plays poker with these men. They laugh and joke, and it’s almost easy to forget that they are all prisoners of one of the most hellish prisons on Earth for a little bit. When the jug makes its way to Yassen he takes a small sip, then passes it to Alex. Alex sniffs at it, alcohol. Honestly, quite nasty alcohol strong enough that it could be used as an industrial cleaner. Alex screws his eyes shut as he takes a deep drink, it burns on the way down and Alex can’t help but sputter. The men playing with Yassen seem amused, they laugh as Alex coughs. “Take another, boy, it’ll put some hair on that chest,” Ivan goads Alex.

Alex isn’t one to back down from a challenge, any challenge even one as stupid as killing his brain cells with this rotgut that’s probably brewed in some still hidden in a cell somewhere, so he takes another draw from the bottle. This is a longer drink, probably more than Alex should have considering his size and the apparent strength of the booze, and Alex still coughs as he swallows but the men cheer and Yassen even looks faintly amused at Alex’s antics when he catches a glimpse of Yassen in the corner of his eye. Alex passes the bottle away, and the world drifts out of focus. Alex is warm and his limbs feel heavy, he lists to the side a little and finds himself snuggling against Yassen’s side. Yassen doesn’t seem to mind as he lifts his arm and allows Alex to slot himself into the space that Yassen has made for him.

Alex drifts off to sleep paying no attention to the game happening around him, reassured by the feel of Yassen holding him close.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex falls prey to the lures of complacency as most do and ends up paying a heavy price. Ambushed and attacked viciously, Alex is taken down a notch by men of the Pit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UM, WHUMP alert, delivering on those warnings right now. Probably a final chapter for this for some good ole h/c recovery stuff and to tie this storyline up.  
> I also spent way too much time looking up different insults for whores before I settled on one to use.

Alex feels peaceful here in the prison. At least there’s no mission here for Alex to risk his life for. Yassen warns Alex of the dangers of the prison, but Alex seems to be protected by dint of his association with Yassen. No one really talks to him, but Yassen also never leaves Alex alone. He even makes sure that he escorts Alex to the underground pools that the men use to wash themselves and their clothes. Alex is never left alone, and those times that Yassen can’t stay glued to Alex’s side are spent with the Doctor.

It rubs Alex the wrong way, he’s used to taking care of himself, and it chafes a little to be so reliant on Yassen. Alex doesn’t even know what Yassen is up to when he disappears on Alex. Alex knows that life goes on, even in prison. People band together in groups based on what they have in common. Alex has Yassen looming over his shoulder, sheltering him as much as he’s able to, like Alex still has something left to be sheltered.

At least Alex’s world is a little bigger now, thanks to Ivan bugging the shit out of Yassen. The poker games have become another regular part of their routine. Every couple of days, Alex and Yassen go join the group. Yassen plays, Alex watches. It’s amusing to realize how shamelessly often these men attempt to cheat, just for bragging rights between the other.

Alex isn’t allowed to play, but honestly being around people who don’t seem to want to hurt him is a treat, even if most references made to Alex are somewhat degrading. “Boy toy,” is a favorite, as well as “pretty boy,” these men cannot seem to look past what they’re used to though, even after seeing Alex’s fight upon his arrival. Perhaps it’s the fact that Alex is still off balance from being sent here. This is nothing like his normal life, and this is nothing really like Alex’s life on missions either. There’s a boring routine, and Yassen keeps trying to push as many new skills onto Alex as he can think of, like that will make a difference now that Alex is trapped down here with him in this pit.

Alex just wants to know what Yassen is doing when he leaves Alex behind. It’s been on the backburner of his mind, itching. Alex doesn’t like questions without answers, and things being kept from him, no matter what Yassen thinks about protecting Alex.

*

Alex finally gets a chance to act on that nagging feeling a few days later. The Doctor had seemed especially pained, as the weather had been getting colder recently going from what must have been intense heat on the surface, which had been fairly comfortable in their underground prison, to what was turning into a damp chill that seemed pervasive and inescapable with the limited resources available. The Doctor’s pain though, had led to him drinking even deeper than normally from his ever present supply of rotgut liquor. Eventually the man had drunk so much that he was dozing, leaning back against the wall, paying no attention at all to Alex.

Alex is still very, very good at sneaking, even if he hasn’t had much opportunity lately to get into much trouble, not with Yassen’s careful eye being kept mostly trained on Alex. The Doctor never stirs as Alex gets up and slinks away.

Alex ignores the main area, he can tell from careful observation that Yassen is not in any of the small groups of people here. There’s only so many places Yassen can be though, if not in here. There are only the passages with the cells, some big rooms containing bits of broken furniture and scraps of clothing, and then the massive underground pools that serve as the inmate’s bathing area. Not many places to hide.

Alex wanders through the cells, some have curtains like Yassen’s blocking the doorway, others have nothing. Some are empty, and some have men sitting in them, going about their daily lives as they are while stuck in this place. Alex looks for Yassen, growing more determined as he continues.

*

Alex is still young though, and Yassen had had good reason to be worried. Alex hadn’t exactly made friends when he demolished those men when he arrived at the prison. Some of those men had just been waiting on a chance to get Alex alone, and they had kept their eyes open too.

When Alex had left the main room, well, some others had too. They had gone and found a another friend too, for a total of three stalkers; one followed the sound of Alex’s steps, while trying to stay just a hallway behind Alex, cleanly out of his sight, the original spotters set up an ambush knowing that Yassen was distracted in an area of the Pit that he hadn’t saw fit to show to Alex.

These men knew where Yassen had disappeared to, when he left Alex alone.

Yassen seemed to have an odd pity for the women of the prison and did favors for them on occasion, as some of them had connections that they could use to get things that could help ease the tedium of life in the pit. The other men had a disdain for the prison “women” who were pathetic wretches in their eyes, unclean for the very acts that had been forced upon them against their will in the first place. Men beat down, and then broken, made to pleasure brute after brute day after day. These men hated them, thanked their lucky stars that they were strong enough to be the abuser not the abused, even if it was never a thought that they would not acknowledge out loud.

These men knew the value of patience. It was the nature of this place, most of the men here had been here longer than Alex had even been alive.

New ones rarely survived long against the powers of the prison.

Their moment had arrived though, and they swiftly pulled back the rough spun blankets that served as the only privacy barrier available in the prison. 

They struck from both sides of Alex at once, with the two behind sweeping in when they heard the meaty thunk of blows landing on Alex in a quick burst of noise breaking the muted babble of many people in the echoing passages of the cells.

They went for his knees and his arms, unbalancing Alex and sending him crashing to the ground without any of Yassen’s aid to fall correctly, Alex bounced and the men followed him down continuing their movements to subue Alex’s limbs. 

A knee ended up resting on the back of Alex’s head grinding his cheek into the stone floor scraping his soft cheek raw and slightly bloody, while that man’s hands wrapped like iron bands around Alex’s forearm holding Alex’s arms almost to the breaking point, where if Alex struggled he would possibly dislocate something. Someone else sat heavy on the back of his legs. Alex heard the eager footfalls of one more.

Alex was held in place until one pair of well-worn boots belonging to the set of footsteps that Alex had heard stopped directly in Alex’s rather narrow field of view of the drab tan of the floor. When Alex craned his neck to see up the long expanse stretching from his position to the man looming above him, he realized he recognized the man. Alex had broken his arm, possibly quite badly when he’d arrived here.

The man sneers at Alex cradling that very arm closer to his chest, protectively, as he kneeled down to Alex’s level, and he proceeds to wrap his fingers roughly in Alex’s unruly, almost shoulder length hair cruelly pulling Alex’s neck back into an unnatural arch that leaves Alex unable to look anywhere but to where that man’s cruel grip allows, which is directly into the man’s ugly sneering face.

“Fāhira,” whore, a word Alex had learned the meaning of early on, spit out with barely constrained venom as the man gazes ravenously at Alex held painfully still before him. “This I will enjoy.” The man shifts and grabs Alex’s face between fingers like daggers pricking against Alex’s skull and neck, digging into soft spots maneuvering Alex with practiced skill as one hand spans the back of Alex’s neck holding him in place as the man reaches into his pants with his other hand, pulling out an already hard penis, squatly mushroom-like and an dark painful looking purple. Alex tastes dirt and sweat as fingers move to hold Alex’s clenched jaw open. 

The man holding Alex’s arms still presses harder, Alex thinks sickly of the excitement that he knows the man is probably feeling too. The man on Alex’s ankles, bracing himself against Alex’s thighs seems much more like a clear threat now.

Two thick fingers are shoved in each side of Alex’s mouth holding him open, unable to bite down.

“Ah, boy, you look so pretty like this. Going to fuck your mouth until you’re drowning in your drool and choking on this manhood.” He yanks Alex’s head by his punishing hold, making his penis slap against Alex’s bloodied cheek. He laughs at the humiliation he can see shining through Alex’s eyes.

Academically, you can know that this is a possibility in life.

Then you can actually experience it.

Alex wants to drift far, far away, but his body has long been conditioned to be at its most analytical when his life was in the worst danger. Always had to find a way to survive. He bucks against the hands holding his legs, but they just lock his legs closed and sit on them, freeing those hands to wander as well.

Alex feels cold dread as they reach his waistband and yank his trousers and pants down in one careless tug. The hands begin to touch and play with the revealed flesh of Alex’s plump ass, slapping and kneading uncaringly how the blows sent Alex’s soft cock digging into the stone floor.

The men are just pressing and pressing on. Alex wants to sob as the first man’s cock is pushed past his lips, he tries to push it away with his tongue, but the man groans low at that and grinds himself deeper into Alex’s mouth, making Alex cough and gag. “Yes, yes, he trained you well, that pale afrit, you know how to suck a cock when it's in your mouth.” He rocks his hips back, pulling his cock out of Alex’s mouth to rest against his now swollen lips, smearing Alex’s own saliva and the man’s precum onto Alex’s lips, before he snaps his hips and smacks his cock against Alex’s still slowly oozing wound on Alex’s cheek. He makes sure to allow a thick drop of precum to mix with the blood, before pushing into Alex’s mouth again.

Alex’s nose is ground into the man’s sweaty thatch of rough pubic hair as the man holds Alex exactly when he wants him; gagging, struggling to breath.

Tears begin to roll down Alex’s cheek, stinging as they cross open scrapes. The hands on his ass sneak up, pulling at Alex’s shirt, reaching for sensitive pink nipples, twisting and tugging, jostling the hold on Alex’s arm, causing a sharp pop. Alex grunts lowly in distress as he feels his arm dislocate from his shoulder, and he hears the laughs of the men at his pained outburst.

The man in the middle, holding Alex’s arms twisted, laughs and speaks, “Matek, I bet his perfumed thighs feel better than any woman’s pussy. You’re right there, give them a try.”

The man on his legs releases Alex’s nipples and his hand pulls away briefly, before Alex feels the sweaty brush of another cock, this time rubbing against Alex’s ass, pressing against his crack into the tight crevice created by the press of Alex’s legs held together.

Alex tries to squirm, but it does no good.

The man ruts against Alex as Alex chokes on the ringleader of this attack.

Alex closes his eyes. He tries to focus on his breathing, in and out, but he can’t quite get the sour smell of badly washed genitalia out of his nose, nor from out of the back of his throat, thanks to the unwelcome intrusion of that bastard’s hold on Alex open fucking his mouth, like that proved he was stronger than Alex or better than Alex.

Alex seethed as he struggled vainly.

The men just seemed amused at Alex’s struggle, continuing their degrading barrage as they used him.

Alex thought he was better than this.

Alex knew though that he’d failed the most important lesson that Yassen had been trying to teach him, beware his own self-confidence. Paranoia keeps you alive. Alex hadn’t paid attention and he now paid the price for it.

The men rutted uncaringly, for this release was more about power than sexual desire, and this was academic. Alex still weeps as it happens, horror and fear and disgust powerful emotions no wall of detachment can hold back. When they cum, they are gleeful in making sure that Alex is bathed liberally in it, thick stripes against his cheek and deliberately shot in his eye to sting and make his tears worse.

The fingers are pulled out of Alex’s mouth, and Alex cannot stop the barrage of curses that follow, “Fuck you. You are dead men. He will kill you.”

These men are fools though, they don’t believe Alex. What would a cold-hearted afrit like Gregorovitch care, even about his pretty little bed warmer? Even though the Fāhira spews threats, they do not believe the words for a moment. That devil wouldn’t care about his own father, much less some pampered English boy thrown into Hell.

They strike out with their fists against Alex still held still beneath them. The ringleader’s foot slams against Alex’s face, and he knows no more.

*

Alex wakes dumped in a heap in the hallway outside of his and Yassen’s cell.

Alex is now alone. Left alive, but humiliated left as a message for Yassen on his doorstep. We’re not afraid of you. Alex wipes at his face with his working arm, the other still hanging limply at his side, until he can either figure out how to pop it back in on his own or until Yassen returns and helps.

Alex crawls behind the curtain and then with the last energy he has, pulls himself to rest on the nest of blankets that serves as a bed on the floor, his home in the Pit.

Alex curls up in a tight ball protectively cradling his dislocated arm and waits.

*

Yassen is sitting looking at the wrecked state that Alex is currently in, when Alex comes back to awareness. A careful distance away, arm’s length, watching Alex with imperceptibly soft eyes, Yassen is sitting on his heels watching Alex curled up in a ball on the bed.

Alex blinks and looks dully at Yassen. “Got careless, got caught.” Alex winces at speaking, realizing that the corners of his lips are torn and sore from the rough treatment of earlier.

“Your welcoming committee.” Yassen takes in the extent he can see, scraped cheek, injured arm, probably bruises, and Yassen has no way of knowing how extensive any damage hidden by Alex’s dirty torn clothes may be. “They got what they wanted.”   
“Mostly, I don’t know why they didn’t kill me though?” 

“Maybe they hope I turn you out, think you spoiled goods.”

“You would never do that.”

Yassen nods. “No.”

Alex knows this in his soul. Yassen does care about him, no matter how much of a cold-blooded bastard he could be otherwise. That was a part of his job. He had to be scary and intimidating, his reputation was part of what kept him alive and in business as an assassin.

Alex wasn’t scared of Yassen, even after what he’d been though. He knew some people felt so violated, after an attack like this, that no one could be near them without triggering a panicked flight or fight response. But Alex mostly just felt calm again, he’d break apart later, if he had the safety to do so. He didn’t right now. He’s aching and pained and a little dizzy from the blows that had rendered him unconscious, and then probably continued a bit longer.

Yassen comes closer staying in Alex’s vision.

Alex breaths out, “It’s okay.” Alex rolls himself up, wincing. “My right arm is dislocated, can you please help?”

Yassen moves his hands to brace Alex’s arm, holding him against the floor as Alex straightens out. Yassen begins to pull Alex’s arm up, slowly rotating it back and forth, pulling to ninety degrees, then one-twenty resting above his head, with a faint pop Alex’s arm is back in place. Alex moans as his shoulder still dully aches from the strain. “Thank you,” he pants.

Yassen gently tucks Alex’s arm against his chest, then moves to sit next to Alex, gathering Alex into his arms and holding him from behind. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Bruises everywhere, my pride for sure, some scrapes in uncomfortable places, but nothing I can’t bounce back from.” A feverish light burns in Alex’s eyes. This won’t happen again. Alex burrows backwards into Yassen’s chest. “They could have done much worse.” His eyes focus on nothing in the cell, just a dark thought of what could have happened.

“This is not nothing.” Yassen seems at his most cold at this moment. He burns as well, but there is nothing feverish about his fury, it is the burn of ice. Alex can’t see his face, but he doubts that there is much expression on Yassen’s face now.

Yassen holds onto Alex tightly, but still careful, of making Alex feel trapped and of Alex’s arm. Yassen has always been considerate to Alex, in his own way.

Alex rests himself against Yassen, and tells him everything he can remember about the attack. The three men present, the location of the attack, even the humiliation of telling Yassen that he’d disobeyed him and went wandering and exactly as Yassen had worried trouble had found Alex, as it does. Alex feels a flash of worry for the doctor, for his inattention, but thinks that Yassin knows probably that addicts of any kind can’t always be trusted to do tasks perfectly every time. He probably thought that Alex was smarter than he actually was, and that for once in his life, he'd listen to Yassen about his safety. 

Alex curls up thinking dark thoughts, unable to open his mouth and share a word of these thoughts with Yassen, for even if Yassen wants to protect Alex, Alex still knows that Yassen would be disgusted with the slip in Alex’s awareness and control that had even allowed the situation to take place in the first place.

It is to these worries that Alex allows himself to drift off again, surrounded by Yassen’s scent, a comfort that Alex is too emotionally mixed up to even recognize currently.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex learns another rule of the Pit, how to respond in kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I lied when I put a chapter count up with the last chapter, oops, thought one more part would finish this, but nope shit ballooned on me, so here's the next chapter, but not the last chapter of this.

Alex wakes up struggling against the arms holding him, forgetting for a brief moment that he’d been dropped unceremoniously back near the cell. Alex remembers more when he feels the ache of his face, and of his arm still aching from it’s earlier treatment. He wasn’t trapped in the hold of some brute who planned on doing worse to him sooner or later, he was being held by one of the few people that had seemed to give a shit about Alex after his uncle’s death, and definitely the only person in the Pit who cared anything about him. 

Alex stills his struggles, and the arms around him loosen to allow Alex to roll over so he can lay still curled up in the warm circle of Yassen’s arms, but this time facing the man who is also awake and quietly watching over Alex.

“Yassen,” Alex starts then stops.

Yassen waits, his expression unchanging but nonetheless reassuring to Alex.

“I fucked up,” Alex’s voice is small, sounding more like the child he should be currently than he ever normally does. 

“You got careless.” Yassen’s hand moves to Alex’s face, tracing lightly over the torn corner of Alex’s lips before tilting Alex’s head so Alex can’t look away from him. “Will you make the same mistake again?”

Alex shakes his head, “No.”

“Then take this as a lesson learned, do not dwell on it.” Yassen’s eyes turn into cold chips of ice, “What they did is on them, not you.” He’s firm in his belief of that, firm enough to reassure Alex that his aimless fears of this violation being something that he won’t be able to move on from, are just that, aimless fears. Alex knows that Yassen was young when he started, he wonders if Yassen had ever had to face pulling himself back together after something like this. Alex hopes not, but he also knows that true understanding comes from experience.

Alex pushes himself closer to Yassen, burying his face in the crook of Yassen’s neck, mumbling, “I’ll try,” before he goes quiet again, basking in Yassen’s warmth wrapped around him.

*

Yassen wakes him in the morning as he’s carefully moving from the bedding to their small area where they store their food and cooking utensils. Yassen looks like he didn’t get much sleep himself as he goes straight for a small tin containing coffee grounds. Yassen puts some water on to boil, “Sasha, did you sleep well?”

“Fine,” Alex hesitates at the lie, “I . . .” he stutters before continuing, “No, I kept dreaming that they didn’t let me go. They’re still out there, I can’t get it out of my head.” Alex slumps and wraps the blankets tighter around himself.

Yassen is silent for several long minutes before he suggests, “We can change that.”

Alex gives Yassen a sharp look, he knows what he means by “changing that.” He means that they can just kill those men. Yassen knows how to send a message, Alex knows it’s probably the best idea, and would bring him some much needed peace of mind down here, but Alex has fought so hard against becoming a killer for any reason. Alex knows he’s caused people to die, but they were usually trying to kill him first, so it didn’t exactly feel the same as setting out with the singular purpose of ending a life.

This suggestion, it would be a deliberate choice for Alex. If he took Yassen up on this, Alex would plan then carry out a cold blooded murder, for revenge. 

Alex didn’t know what to say.

“Or,” Yassen draws the word out, “I could just take care of it, Sasha.” Yassen’s voice cut through Alex’s messy thoughts. “No more worries, because I will leave an example that no one here will forget.”

“No!” Alex shakes his head, not that, Yassen just taking care of it by himself just sat wrong with Alex. Alex didn’t want Yassen to fight his battles for him. All Alex really wanted was for Yassen to respect him, maybe look at him for himself instead of as the annoying extension of his father that Yassen had to care for. Alex’s voice is firmer when he continues, “No, I’ll help. It’s my problem anyway.” 

Yassen looks surprised by Alex’s vehemence against the idea of Yassen taking care of the problem alone.

Alex really wishes that he could read Yassen’s mind because Yassen nods at that, despite his obvious surprise, and moves to pour the now boiling water over the grounds in a dented french press. When the coffee is brewed, a cup is passed to Alex and Yassen sits down with him again, making room for Alex to scoot closer as they get settled in.

“No training today, then, instead we plan.”

And they do plan, it takes only a few minutes to review the layout of the prison, and the likely times and places for their attack to work. Alex will play bait again, wandering off on his own, while Yassen waits at a predetermined point that they thought would be a good place for an ambush. Hopefully the same fish bite, and then Alex and Yassen will take care of the problem.

Alex doesn’t know if it will be better or worse for him to try to kill someone this time. When he failed before while trying to assassinate Tulip Jones, Alex had thought he’d never have it in him to deliberately kill another person, no matter how terrible of a person that person may be, but his attack changes things. Alex can’t settle himself knowing that he’s trapped here with the same people that hurt him before, who will hurt him again in a heartbeat probably worse if given another chance.

Yassen even presses a switchblade onto Alex, making Alex promise that he will take it everywhere and actually use it if he needs it. Alex wonders if this is an action that’s more to reassure Yassen, than Alex. He’d been so insistent when he’d given it to Alex, showing Alex how the blade would jump straight out at the press of a button.

They sip coffee, Alex knowing that it’s a precious and rare commodity in the Pit, and despite the fact that they’re planning a murder, Alex feels like this is perhaps the best morning he’s had since before Ian died.

*

They wait several days, letting rumors grow.

The catcalls at Alex are louder and cruder than ever, those men had wasted no time in bragging of their conquest. Alex can’t act like it didn’t happen thanks to this, which would have been his preferred method of dealing with this, so instead Alex just pretends that none of this bothers him. Their opinion doesn’t matter. 

Alex does make sure that he’s sticking close to Yassen though. He doesn’t want to deal with any other ambitious idiots getting the bright idea that they could take him down too.

Hopefully soon, they’ll be too scared to open their mouths around Alex.

*

The time finally comes. Honestly Alex is at the end of his rope for the waiting. Alex still hasn’t mastered patience quite yet. Alex leaves the main area of the prison, walking casually, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He walks alone through the rows of cells, knowing from watching that his bait was taken, and he’s picked up some followers.

He avoids the original area of the attack and listens as he moves, avoiding his followers and never letting them get ahead of him. Just another cell block to go and Alex will be in the agreed position. Alex reaches the area he’d and Yassen had agreed upon, near the entrance to the lowest level where the underground springs were.

Alex closes his eyes and waits trying to reconcile what he’s about to do with who he is.

Yes, he will be a killer. Maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world to be. Yassen was a killer, but he still cared about Alex. Alex’s father was apparently a very talented killer, from the stories he’s heard. Ian had surely killed in the line of duty too.

Alex wouldn’t turn into a heartless bastard just because he does this.

Alex opens his eyes hearing as the three men that’d attacked him arrive.

“Fahira, little Fahira, are you flirting with us?” The ringleader singsongs.

They all three laugh before one says, “He enjoyed sucking your cock so much, he snuck off again so he could have it!”

“Look at him, prettier than any girl, of course he loves your cock, probably much better than the prick of the afrit since he’s waiting so nicely for us.” They leer at Alex thinking that they will easily get the upper hand on Alex. They think they can break Alex, but they’re wrong.

He can do this.

Alex presses the button on the switchblade Yassen had given him, letting the blade slip out ready, while keeping it hidden in the sleeves of his now ratty hoodie. A little bit closer, three more steps towards Alex, then Alex is bursting into movement.

He darts forward leading with the blade, straight for the closest man’s neck, and the knife slides through with little resistance leaving the man with a gaping bleeding gash across his throat that he tries to hold closed as he falls to the ground, to quickly bleed out.

One down, Alex thinks dispassionately. That was the man that held his arms.

Yassen still hasn’t come out, but Alex is doing pretty well on his own, so he’s not concerned.

Alex strikes out again, making Yassen’s description of him as a Pit Viper finally feel true to Alex as his knife bites into skin again this time into the ringleader’s arm, in fact quite close to the original place where he’d broken the man’s arm before. “Fuck,” the man shouts and jumps away from Alex.

His eyes are wary and hard as they take in Alex, “You little whore, think a little prick like that will stop me?” He laughs coldly, “I’ll fucking split you in two for this bullshit.” He looks thoughtful, “Your mouth will feel so much better after I knock your fucking teeth out, slut.”

He moves towards Alex again

Yassen finally makes himself known, dropping down from the stalactites on the ceiling above them, landing behind the third man, making short work of him by wrapping his arms around his neck and twisting before letting the man’s now cooling corpse hit the floor. “You think so?”

“Afrit,” the ringleader doesn’t look so in control anymore. He’s scared of Yassen, Alex thinks, with good reason, Yassen is a terrifying man, even when compared to the rest of the prisoners down here. “Just having some fun? Your whore is a terrible flirt.”

“Sasha,” Yassen nods at Alex, “is not my whore.” 

Alex moves while the man is distracted by Yassen, aiming his knife for the man’s hamstrings, sending him too, crashing to the ground.

“Very good, Sasha.” Yassen walks closer to the ringleader of Alex’s rape, “Sasha here is my apprentice.” Yassen kicks the man viciously in the side. “You will regret hurting him, although not I think for long.”

Yassen steps on the man’s hand, grinding his fingers into the ground probably breaking more bones. “You’ve finally helped me get an important lesson into his head though.” Yassen looks pleased, “He wouldn’t kill before, but you fixed that.”

Yassen steps back from the man, and motions for Alex to come closer. “We are going to use him as an example.” Yassen pulls out some ropes that he’d hidden before Alex and his followers had arrived. “Help me tie him up.”

The man tries to fight them, but Yassen’s thin frame hides a wiry strength, and his struggles are ineffectual. It’s not long at all until they have the man trussed up. “Sasha, we have to leave a strong message for the rest of them. His death cannot be easy. If you don’t want to help with this part, I won’t judge you lesser.”

“No, no,” Alex looks sick for a moment at the thought of what Yassen plans had entailed, “You pass the sentence, you swing the sword. I can’t sleep with this man alive, so I have to help you.”

“If you are sure.”

“I am.”

Yassen pulls out the man’s cock, currently limp, a little silly looking like a fat button mushroom dangling out, not at all the threat that it’d been while hard and being shoved into Alex’s unwilling mouth, and then he points, “Hold it here, then just a quick tug with that knife, and he’ll never be able to hurt you again.”

The knife is sharp, and even though Alex’s hands are shaking a little he does it. The man’s screams seem muted to Alex, as they quickly turn to desperate, hopeless sobs once the cut is made. The man has no dignity, he’s crying and scared, and Alex can’t find it in himself to care, as this man had laughed as he hurt Alex. 

Alex is still holding his severed member in his hands, just staring at it, unsure now of what Yassen wants him to do. “What do I do with it?”

“Put it in his mouth so they know what this is for.” Yassen pries the man’s jaw open for Alex. Alex shoves it in, then Yassen points out a few more places for Alex to make small cuts, down the man’s wrists, then across his Femoral arteries in his legs.

Yassen addresses the man, “You will die slow, and you will deserve it. Tell Hell I sent you when you get there.”

Yassen looks satisfied after they finish hanging the man up with the ropes from a stalactite on the ceiling.

Alex is just suddenly tired now, now that the adrenaline has left and the reality of what he and Yassen had done is finally hitting him. He’s crossed the line even further than he’d thought he would doing this. They hadn’t just put those men down like mad dogs, they’d tortured one.

They were leaving him to bleed out and be found as a warning because down here life was cheap.

Alex doesn’t know how to feel about it.

*

Yassen doesn’t let Alex dwell on it too much though. They leave the scene of their crime, and go to what Alex likes to think of as their own personal training area, and then he works Alex into the ground for most of the rest of the day. 

By the end of the endless pushups, and running, and the spars that Yassen has Alex do that day, Alex wonders if he’ll even be able to make his limbs take him back to their cell. 

But Yassen seems to know that Alex is damn near done, and leads Alex back on shaky limbs, but still on his own two feet to their cell.

Yassen strips off his shirt, damp with sweat and sits beside Alex.

“I know you don’t feel right about what we did, little one.” Yassen sighs, “But it is the way of life down here. If we hadn’t done that, then someone else might have gotten the idea you are free game.”

“I know this.” Alex bites out, “I’m not a child anymore.”

“You are still a child in some ways or else you would not be so defensive.”

Yassen is good at tying Alex up in knots with his words. He just knows Alex so well, maybe leftover from being trained by Alex’s father, whom everyone liked to remind Alex that he was the spitting image of. “Why do you even care? My dad?” Alex questions. Bitterly, “He’s dead, I don’t think he cares anymore.”

“Lashing out won’t help.” 

There he goes again, being so calm in the face of whatever Alex throws at him. For once in his life, Alex thinks, he’d like to be the one to leave a conversation leaving Yassen Gregorovitch as the one confused and mixed up by the words exchanged. Alex curls in upon himself, “Whatever.”

Yassen shakes his head at Alex and moves to wrap an arm around Alex, drawing him closer, “I care because I do. I cared about your father first, yes, but then I met you, and while you are like him, you are not him.” Yassen takes a moment to think, “You’re far kinder than your father was. He trusted no one that I knew of. You’re also funnier, he was all business most of the time, cold, calculating, ruthless. You are not. You worry about people, I’m not sure you father ever cared about more than a small handful. You are your own person to me, Alex, not a replacement.”

Alex’s anger deflates, neatly popped by Yassen’s calm words. “I’m sorry, Yassen.” Alex melts into Yassen’s side, “That was just hard.”

“I hope it’s always hard for you, when it becomes easy is when you should worry.”

Alex falls asleep with those words as a lifeline. 

He doesn’t have nightmares that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Yassen become closer.

The three bodies are discovered quickly, even though Alex doesn’t know this for sure until the next morning. 

Alex and Yassen hadn’t tried to hide it after all, it wouldn’t be a very good message if they’d done that.

So the men are found, and the one that had bragged about his violation of Alex is the piece de resistance. A message to the rest of the prison, two of the deaths had been quick, fairly easy, but not his. Alex finally even learned his name finally, Amir. A name to put with a face that Alex didn’t think he was going to be able to forget.

*

Life goes on, though.

Yassen’s semi-joking nickname for Alex, “Pit Viper,” sticks. It’s better than being called boy or whore, in any case. The other men do not talk about Alex the same way anymore, Alex notices. They used to speak like he was a prize and a toy, made to be used, but now they are wary. Alex thinks it/s better this way. He hadn’t realized how it bothered him before, before the attack, when they’d talk of the ways they’d touch him if given the chance. But Alex knows more now, and while he hadn’t been too injured in the first attack, he doesn’t think his next attackers would be so kind. They know what he’s capable of now, so there goes the element of surprise which has probably been Alex’s most useful ally to date.

Alex’s face heals, the bruises on his face turning a spectacular sickly purple green, before completely healing, leaving Alex’s cheek as soft as it’d been before being bruised and scraped.

The tears on the corners of his mouth heal too, leaving small silvery scars at the corners of Alex’s lips, barely perceptible when Alex touches them with his fingers.

Alex hasn’t seen himself in a mirror in a long time. 

There’s no mirrors down here, as far as Alex knows, and the pools are dark and dimly lit, leaving little reflection on the water for Alex to use to see the changes wrought on him by time.

Alex knows though that he’s different. He’s managed to pack on some muscle on his formerly slight form, hitting another growth spurt and reaching six feet in height, if Alex had been free, maybe now would be when MI6 would start to lose their interest in using him, as his childish looks seem to be fading and being replaced by the contours of adulthood. That thought doesn’t really help him now, as Alex knows, Yassen had told him that no one got out of here. 

All sentences in the Pit were life sentences.

*

The day that Ivan deals Alex into the poker game comes as a surprise to Alex. He’s used to being dismissed, but they are familiar enough presences now.

Yassen nudges Alex to get him to pick up the extra cards in front of him and Alex reaches over to pick up the cards, checking them to see he’s got a mostly shite hand. Alex discards three of the cards, keeping only a measly two pair of threes.

Alex loses that hand.

The shape of the men’s jokes is familiar to Alex now, he’s sat and listened to them many times before now. There is a camaraderie there that Alex had mostly been on the outside looking in at before, but Ivan jokes and makes an effort to include Alex and it’s nice.

Alex has felt like he was on the outside looking in at life long before he came to the Pit. It’s weird that being trapped in a hellish prison would actually seem like an escape, but in a lot of ways it is. There is no mission to fulfill. Alex’s only purpose is to live his life. Yes, Yassen seems determined to push all of his considerable underworld knowledge into Alex’s head, for reasons that Alex cannot figure out, but hearing Yassen talk is soothing. Alex is pretty sure that he could listen to Yassen read the phonebook outloud to him and he would find it just as fascinating, just due to getting to hear the man speak. His intelligence is evident in every word he speaks to Alex, and the low timbre of his voice makes Alex hang on to every word spoken and a warm feeling grows in Alex’s belly that he doesn’t have a name for yet.

Alex is stuck on what to call his feelings for Yassen. Yassen teaches him things, protects him, but he has never felt particularly paternal to Alex. Sometimes he treats Alex like an equal, sometimes he speaks from the years of experience he has over Alex, but he also never really makes Alex feel small about the things he doesn’t know yet. Watching Yassen move is fascinating, a study in restrained motion hiding a fantastic ability to use his body as a weapon.

Alex loses the next few hands too, distracted by his thoughts he discards a card that could’ve turned his next hand around, but by the time he’d realized what he’d done, well it was too late.

“I thought your Pit Viper would be better at cards than this?” Ivan booms.

Yassen looks over at Alex, reading his inattention in the lines of his body, “He doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to the game.”

“Sorry, just thinking,” Alex tries to shift his focus back onto the game.

Yassen smirks, “You will have to do better. Surely you already know how to play the game.”

“I do.”

“Then play.”

Alex pushes his thoughts away, idle as they were, and focuses on the game. He did better in the next few hands, but had been so much in the hole that it didn’t really matter, as he finally lost the last of his chips in the game.

“Sasha,” Yassen chides, “Next game I want to see you play seriously. You never know when the ability to play a good game might help you along.”

Alex nods, “I will. I’ve just got something on my mind.”

*

Alex never thinks things completely though before he does them sometimes, it’s how he ended up on a burning boat at sea, having set the fire himself.

It’s also how Alex ends up kissing Yassen for the first time. They’d been sparring, and Alex had been distracted by the smirk on Yassen’s face, as he’d seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the dance that could develop when fighters of their calibre met in a playful battle. There’s a rhythm, a push and pull, parry and riposte between them. They’re two tigers, lethal and deadly, exchanging blows, but not with any serious intent behind them, just a stretching of their bodies so they don’t lose the skills they’ve fought hard to develop.

Alex pauses a second too long though and Yassen’s next strike lands hard, sending Alex stumbling to the ground on one knee.

Instead of continuing the spar, Yassen grasps Alex’s forearm and pulls him back to his feet.

“What’s going on in your head?” Yassen rubs his fingers along Alex’s elbow soothingly, “I can see the wheels turning behind your eyes, Sasha.”

What’s going on in Alex’s head, is honestly a confusing hyperfocus on Yassen that Alex has recently developed. Waking up morning after morning next to Yassen’s warm length is an exquisite torture in and of itself to Alex now. It hadn’t been at first, first it’d been comforting, but now it’s just torture. Alex wakes up hard, and just hopes that Yassen doesn’t notice it until he wills it back down. 

Alex had probably been too shellshocked by waking up in the Pit to notice at first, then he’d been too traumatized by the attack, but those horrors had dulled, and Yassen is attractive. His pale skin, white blond hair, and pale blue eyes should make him look washed out, but to Alex’s eyes Yassen is vivid, maybe the only real thing that grounds Alex to the here and now.

Yassen had been waiting on Alex’s reply, but Alex was too caught up in his thoughts, and his brain was telling him if he didn’t finally attempt to kiss Yassen he’d die.

“Alex ---,” Yassen begins, but Alex leans forward and touches his lips to Yassen’s.

Yassen freezes under Alex’s kiss, but Alex doesn’t let that stop him. He opens his mouth and licks tentatively at Yassen’s lower lip, and then Yassen is parting his lips under Alex’s kiss, yielding to Alex. He lets Alex set the pace of the kiss, but at least now he’s an active participant in it, rather than just being still under Alex’s efforts.

Alex wants to crawl inside Yassen, metaphorically, so he deepens the kiss, his fingers locking around Yassen’s elbows in a clear plea for Yassen to stay, to not break this off and run away, even if he thinks it’d be for Alex’s own good. Alex moans into Yassen’s mouth as he presses close, and Yassen nips at Alex’s lips, playful.

Alex pulls back and opens his eyes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Yassen looks conflicted when he replies, “I don’t want to stop. I want to take every last inch of you, dear boy, but you are too young for this, for me.”

“I’m not too young to die or be trapped here.”

Yassen grimaces, “That’s true.”

“Just forget my age, it’s not like it matters here.”

Yassen nods, “You’re right.” He moves and pulls Alex along with him, “But not here, I think. Wouldn’t you rather lie in our bed?”

It’s not a bed, it’s a pile of blankets on the stone ground, but the idea is a nice thought. Alex nods eagerly, then follows close on Yassen’s heels as he leads them back to their cell.

The bed is as sad as it ever is, but when Alex and Yassen lower themselves down onto it, it doesn’t really matter to Alex. He’s here, with Yassen, and it’s quickly becoming better than any of Alex’s confused half remembered dreams about what it would be like.

Alex grasps Yassen like a lifeline, pulling him close on top of Alex, and bringing his face back down to meet Alex’s lips. Hungrily he kisses and licks at Yassen’s mouth, before moving to suck on his pulse beating steadily in his neck. Yassen groans and grinds himself down onto Alex at that.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Sasha.” Yassen’s voice is lower than normal, dark with need.

“Show me.” Alex challenges.

Yassen takes Alex’s hand and moves it between them, so he can feel the hardness growing in Yassen’s pants. It should scare Alex, considering the last time he’d encountered another man’s arousal, but Yassen’s just spurs Alex on. Alex palms it, feeling the shape of it hidden by Yassen’s pants.

“I’m not scared of you, Yassen.” Alex’s pupils are blown wide and dark when Yassen meets them, “Show me more.”

Yassen pushes Alex to gently lay down on the blankets as he sits back onto his knees. Yassen’s shirt is quickly discarded, and then Yassen pulls himself out of his pants. It’s bigger than Alex’s, and uncircumsized, but it’s just as pale as the rest of Yassen’s body, with the exception of his pink head, which is already leaking precum. Yassen gives it a lazy tug, meeting Alex’s eyes again, searching for Alex’s confirmation that this was still okay. 

Alex doesn’t want Yassen to think he’s scared, so he reaches for his cock, feeling the soft skin of his foreskin for himself. It’s different to be touching someone else, but Alex knows what feels good to him and that’s as good as a starting point as any. Alex’s first strokes are tentative, but seeing Yassen’s eyes flutter shut as Alex gets his rhythm and starts stroking with long, firm stokes shows that Alex is doing something right.

“Sasha…” Yassen moans, “Sasha, you are doing too well.” He puts his fingers on Alex’s wrist to stop Alex from stroking him, “You want this to be more right?”

Alex knows the mechanics of more, but he’s never done them willingly before. He wonders if sucking Yassen’s cock would be as terrible as the first time, but as soon as the thought crosses Alex’s mind, the thought leaves because Alex knows Yassen would never actually hurt him. Alex’s voice is hoarse when he speaks, “Can I kiss it?”

Yassen’s eyes are unfathomable pools as he answers, “Yes, little one, I would like that.”

Yassen crawls up Alex’s body on the ground, then he’s looming over Alex’s face. His cock is dangling scant inches from Alex’s mouth, and Alex leans up to meet it with a kiss. Alex takes the head into his mouth, tasting the faint musk of sweat from their earlier sparring, and tasting the faint hint of what must be pure Yassen underneath. Alex kisses and licks at the head, but when he sucks at it, Yassen’s hips stutter, and he hisses, “Yes, just like that.”

Alex attacks with renewed determination, using Yassen’s quiet moans as a guide on what to do. The longer Alex does it, the easier it gets. Alex pushes himself up on his elbows and takes as much of Yassen into him as he can, slowly, inch by inch, until Alex’s nose is buried in the patch of blond hair at the base of Yassen’s cock. Alex breathes through his nose, and then he pulls back looking up to meet Yassen’s eyes, with Yassen’s cock still caught between his lips.

“Sasha, you don’t know what you do to me.” Yassen’s hand cradles Alex’s cheek, feeling the shape of his cock still held inside of Alex. Yassen’s hand brushes some of Alex’s now much longer hair from his face, “You are doing so well on your own, but can I help?”

Alex hums and nods with Yassen’s cock still in his mouth.

“You are such a good boy.” Yassen pulls his hips back, pulling his cock from between Alex’s lips, rubbing it along Alex’s lips, seemingly enjoying the sight of Alex beneath him, “Open wide for me.” Then he feeds his cock back into Alex’s waiting mouth, slowly fucking his way in.

Alex moans and moves his tongue as much as he’s able, and Yassen pulls back again, before thrusting back into Alex’s mouth, he doesn’t stop setting a fast pace that is currently leaving Alex’s ignored cock dripping. “You feel so good. So hot, so wet, so warm.” Each word is a line straight to Alex’s cock, as he feels it twitch with interest Yassen’s pleased murmurs. 

Yassen caresses Alex’s face, even as it fucks it, petting Alex’s hair and telling him that he’s doing such a good job. Alex whines, it’s almost too much, but Yassen’s caresses ground Alex, reminding him of who he’s with. 

Yassen’s movement is becoming erratic, he pants, “Will you drink my cum, little one?”

Alex sucks as hard as he can the next time Yassen is fully in his mouth, fighting Yassen’s movement with suction, trying to hold him firmly in place in Alex’s mouth. Yassen’s hips stutter, and then hot liquid is hitting the back of Alex’s throat, making him cough and pull back as he swallows the thick fluid. Yassen’s now limp cock slips from between Alex’s now puffy and pink lips, and Yassen is still looking at Alex with his glacial eyes.

“You did so well,” Yassen smiles at Alex, “I think you deserve a reward too.”

Yassen leans down and kisses Alex again, a quick chaste peck, before he moves down Alex’s body. His hands wander up and down Alex’s sides, like he’s soothing a spooked horse, then they’re pulling Alex’s neglected and aching cock from Alex’s pants. “You’ve been so patient.” Yassen palms Alex’s cock, and plays with the drips of precum making the head of Alex’s cock wet, stroking his hand down, he holds Alex’s cock steady as he lowers himself to return the favor. Yassen is much more sure in his movements than Alex was. Alex can’t think beyond how good it feels, that warm wet heat wrapped around him, sucking and playing and making the fire in Alex’s belly feel like a coil ready to spring.

Alex tenses as he cums, but Yassen just holds him steady through the aftershocks of orgasm, petting Alex and carefully arranging their limbs so he can wrap himself around Alex.

He holds onto Alex like Alex is something precious, breakable.

Alex doesn’t feel breakable right now. 

Honestly, Alex just feels content as he drifts to sleep being held securely by Yassen.

*

Alex never really knew the exact date in the Pit. It’s not like it mattered, so no one really kept a calendar beyond what the temperatures told them about the seasons outside of the Pit.

It’s an unremarkable day the next morning, as far as Alex knows.

But Yassen wakes him insistently.

They do not start their exercises after breakfast like a normal day in the Pit. Yassen looks tired when he looks at Alex. “I am out of things to teach you.”

“That’s okay?” Alex doesn’t get the regret in Yassen’s voice. It doesn’t matter if Yassen can’t teach him new things, it’s not like Alex is going to get to put them to much use anyway. He still doesn’t get Yassen’s insistence on him memorizing things like lists of safe houses, and contacts back in the real world. It’s not like Alex is ever going to see that again, Yassen had told him that no one gets out of here. “It’s not like I’ll be able to use that stuff anyway.”

Yassen looks far away for a moment. “You will.”

He looks firm and then pulls Alex to follow him out of their cell and to the main area of the prison.

“You will not be stuck here.” Yassen looks at the entrance to the pit, “Do you remember watching before?”

Alex nods, “Yes, I do.”

“Then take what I’ve taught you and fly out.”

“What?”

“You can do it.” Yassen pulls Alex to stand by the entrance. “What do you think the training was for, little one? I lied when I said you couldn’t do it.” Yassen looks sheepish to Alex, although he’s sure it still looks like a blank face to anyone else. “You will not die down here. I want you to climb out, now.”

Alex looks up at the hole in the ceiling, “But you said you can’t.”

“I cannot. But you are at the peak of your physical condition, you can.”

“Without you?”

“Yes, you stupid boy, without me.” Yassen grabs Alex’s arm, “You can do it, Sasha, climb.”

Alex looks up at the hard climb, then back at Yassen, “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“It’s the only way.” Yassen is firm, his mind is made up.

Alex closes his eyes. All the fights, all the times Yassen had pushed Alex physically, had been towards a single purpose, honing Alex, in every possible way that Yassen could manage while they were confined together.

Preparing Alex to make his escape.

Alex opens his eyes, then meets Yassen’s for what might be the last time.

“I love you, Yassen.”

“I know, little Viper. You take my heart with you.” 

Tears spring up in Alex’s eyes and he viciously rubs them away, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know.” Yassen tilts Alex’s chin up and kisses him one last time, savoring the feel of Alex’s lips beneath his, seeming as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of Alex. He pulls back. “Now go.”

Alex doesn’t protest again, instead he runs to the opening and leaps. His fingers find purchase on the ledge, then he’s pulling himself up on the first leg of his journey.

The first half is easy, most of the stones are secure and it’s not hard at all to find handholds and toeholds and drag himself up.

Then he reaches the middle, and these stones are more exposed to the elements, some are crumbling, Alex carefully tests each one before he moves along. Alex also pointedly, doesn’t look down. The fall is long, and would be painful, but not as painful as meeting Yassen’s eyes again would be. Alex doesn’t want to see what he’s leaving behind.

Alex knows the only way is forward.

Alex’s shoulders are burning from the exertion, but when he reaches up again, he realizes that he’s met the lip of the opening.

Alex is at the top.

He hauls himself over the edge and falls into the sand, turning so he’s facing the sky. Alex pants as he stares up at the wide open expanse above him, feeling a little uneasy, after being underground for so long. Alex can’t believe he made it out. He’d always assumed that Yassen had been telling the truth, that he’d be left down there to eventually die down there. But Yassen was a liar. He’d been preparing Alex as much as he’d been able to.

Only one thing left to do now.

Alex hauls himself back up and looks down into the pit. He can see a figure that might be Yassen from the shock of blond hair, since most of the men in the Pit had darker colored hair, Alex looks at Yassen for a minute before turning away and walking away. Nothing left to do here right now, because there’s really nothing he can do, no way to help Yassen as it stands now.

But the future is always in motion, Alex thinks.

He’s got a list of contacts and safehouses that Yassen had gifted him, and a will to make this right.

Alex will not let Yassen rot down there forever.

Alex begins the slow trek through the desert towards civilization.

He’ll be back one day to free Yassen, he’s sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it! Look at me, pumping this out in a little over a week!
> 
> Sorry about the kinda unresolved ending there. I wanted this to have kinda an open-ended end. Alex is out now, he's learned from his time in the Pit, and plans to make his own life, but I'm totally terrible and just left Yassen there. In my headcanon for this story, Alex ofc ends up going back eventually, frees Yassen and pretty much destroys the shit out of the Pit, but that wasn't really the story I wanted to tell with this, so I didn't bother writing it.


End file.
